Anyone who’s seen one of Wes Anderson’s films is prepared
for the stylistic and aesthetic idiosyncrasies of this director. Just as you
can tell a Robert Altman or David Lynch film without too much effort, Anderson offers his films
a visual signature that’s fairly unmistakable. If you haven’t seen a Wes
Anderson film, I’d be forced to describe Moonrise Kingdom
as Charles M. Schulz’s comic strip
Peanuts as adapted by Stanley Kubrick. And if I have to describe Stanley
Kubrick to you, well… you’re on your own.
I think that Anderson shares qualities with all three of
those great American film mavericks, but particularly shares traits with
Kubrick; the meticulously arranged shots, the ironic and godlike detachment, and
the intricate attention to detail join hands and create a film experience that
ups the stakes on all of Anderson’s pet notions. More than any of his previous
work, this feels like the film that he has been working up to and, because of
that, it may prove to be his first true masterpiece.
Unlike his previous films, which are set in the present, but
filled with objects and fashions from the recent past, Moonrise Kingdom
takes place in the year 1965, a time shortly before the director was born. In a
time where a scout master could still smoke in front of children and children
still had library cards, Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) meet one
another at a church performance and strike up a swift and intense junior league
romance. Both feeling ostracized from society, Sam as an orphan overseen by
Social Services (personified by Tilda Swinton, enacting Mary Poppins’ evil
twin) and Suzy as the “troubled child” of disengaged lawyer parents (Bill
Murray and Frances McDormand), they plot to run away. Everyone seems to be
running away from something, whether it’s Scout Master Ward (Ed Norton) who
claims he’s a “Khaki Scout” first and a math teacher in his spare time, or
Captain Sharp (Bruce Willis, in fine form) who is the policeman of the
storybook-like New Penzance Island and is engaged in a sort-of affair with Suzy’s
mother. Like the comic strip I mentioned above, Sam and Suzy enjoy an
adult-like perspective straight out of the misadventures of Charlie Brown
(tellingly, the scout troop’s dog is named Snoopy). Unlike Peanuts, the adults in the film are present and seem to be just as
bewildered by the world in which they’ve found themselves. Like many of Anderson ’s films, nobody
really has a sense of humor about themselves and everyone is busy in the work
of losing their innocence or pining for it.
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